The Two Week Notice

2

I walk out of the tall building and make my way across the road. I dig at the bottom of my bag for change. I finally find a couple of bucks.

Score.

I walk up to the burger van.

"Hi Alfonso, can I get a veggie burger and ketchup, please?" I say, looking at the cook as he nods and smiles.

"Would you like chips with that, miss?" He says in a thick old Italian accent as I look at the change in my hand, then the menu.

"No, thank you," I say as he nods and starts to cook in the back as I stand by the burger van.

"Bobby," The man says as I turn around and grab the bag. He puts a cup with the Coke label on it on the counter.

"Oh, I didn't pay for this," I say, then I look in the bag and see a bag of fries.

"Or these," I say, holding up the fries as he waves his hand.

"It's on the house," he says as I smile softly.

"Thank you. That means so much to me," I say, speaking truthfully as he smiles softly.

"No need for thanks, dear, and look after yourself," the man says as I smiled and nodded.

"I will thank you, Alfonso," I say as I started to walk back to my apartment this time with a bit more pep in my step.

Spencer's phone that he lent me for the interview starts to ring as I pull my handbag open, feeling irritated by the interruption of me eating my burger.

"Hello, is that Bobby Reid?" someone says on the other end of the phone as I sigh.

Another bill.

"Look, my father overdosed a couple of years ago. I can't pay off any more of his credit cards." I snap.

"Excuse me, Miss Reid, but this is about the assistant job for Mr St. James," the woman says as I sigh.

"Oh, umm, sorry, I thought you were someone else. He already told me I wasn't the right fit in, umm, so many words," I mutter, remembering the awkward job rejection I got from the interview.

"He needs to see you right away," she says as I roll my eyes, resisting the urge to tell her to tell him to go f**k himself, but I think against it.

"Right, he can pay for my cab home then," I say as I sigh and take another bite of the burger.

"That's no problem, Miss Reid," the woman says as I start my walk back to the St James building.

I walk back into the building with my head held high despite the very obvious keyboard workers sitting at the desk gossiping.

I knock on the door, then walk in.

"Miss Reid, you're hired," a tall man in a suit says as I look at Mr St. James as he glares a hole into me.

"Mr St. James, why am I here?" I mutter, looking at him as he glares at me.

"Bobby, this is my father, Jake St. James," Mr St. James says as I glare at him.

"It's nice to meet you, sir," I say internally, thinking about how I'm standing in the same room as two of the richest men in the country.

"The job is yours, Miss Reid. Congratulations." Jake says as I nod.

"Right, umm, but I, ugh, thought I wasn't the right fit, "I say as I glare a hole into Mr St. James's head as Jake laughs.

"Oh, please ignore Brayden today. He has been in the worst mood. You are hired, and starting Monday we will send you the details through email.

"Okay, thank you for this opportunity. I won't let you down." I say, shaking Jake's hand.

"HA, heard that before, "Brayden says as I glare at him.

"With all due respect, sir, you don't know me; don't assume that you do." I hiss through gritted teeth.

Growing up wasn't easy for me. I was the youngest of five children. My sister had kids early, and most of the time I was a babysitter and the overly shy girl that I was until I moved to Toronto and decided to look after my gran. Sadly, she died just three months into me being here. Now I share an apartment with my best friend, Spencer. We don't see each other enough because he works at the local gay bar at night and then waits tables at events for the St James and co company, and, well, I did work at the local Kmart during the day until I got fired because I refused to sleep with my creep of a boss; we called him Weiner Rubbing Rob because that's what he did all day when he was sat at his desk.